Look a Russian in the Eye

Big Three rule of thumb: when Russian negotiators sit hour after hour, staring glumly at their navels, things are going badly. When they look their opponents in the eye, and smile, things are going well.

Foreign Commissar Viacheslav Molotov waved a grey fedora and smiled when he stepped from a U.S. Army plane at Washington's airport this week. Greeted by Edward R. Stettinius Jr., Mr. Molotov kept on smiling and stared at a point midway between the Secretary of State's chin and navel. Posing later with Stettinius, Anthony Eden, Sir Archibald Clark Kerr and Ambassadors Harriman and Gromyko, the Foreign Commissar stared at nothing in particular (see cut}. Mr. Molotov's companions regarded this as encouraging.

So long as he kept his eyes up, there was hope of settling the Polish dispute which had brought him to Washington.

The Hammer & Sickle flag was flying on Lee Mansion, just across Pennsylvania Avenue from the White House, when Molotov paused for a brief rest and brush-up after his flight from Moscow. Then Mr. Stettinius took him over to meet President Truman for the first time. As always, Molotov had to speak through an interpreter. When Stettinius and Molotov emerged, they were not smiling. From the President down, Mr. Molotov's U.S. hosts were prepared to look their guest in the eye, be tougher with him than they had ever been before. So were the British. It was, they had discovered, the best way to make Mr. Molotov look them in the eye.

Lesson in Semantics. The rough course of the Polish negotiations had been a lesson in Big Three relations. It all went back to the Crimea Declaration's wording of the agreement reached at Yalta by President Roosevelt. Churchill and Stalin:

"The Provisional Government now functioning in Poland should ... be reorganized on a broader democratic basis with the inclusion of democratic leaders from Poland itself and from Poles abroad. . . . Mr. Molotov, Mr. Harriman and Sir Archibald Clark Kerr are authorized as a Commission to consult in the first instance in Moscow with members of the present Provisional Government and with other Polish democratic leaders from within Poland and from abroad, with a view to the reorganization of the present Government. . . ."

The trouble had never been that the Russians considered this agreement a scrap of paper; they clung to it with a deadly, literal seriousness. Three major differences arose:

1) The Russians said the agreement meant that conversations should be held with the Warsaw Poles first, later with the other Poles. The British and Americans said that all parties should be present at the first meetings in Moscow.

2) The Russians said that the Warsaw Government should merely be enlarged to include some other parties and men. The British and Americans said it meant a completely new Government. 3) The Russians interpreted "democratic" to mean their kind of "democracy," which they take very seriously and think suited to them and their cherished security in Eastern Europe. As War & the Working Class said last week: "It would be a completely hopeless business to demand that democracy in all European countries should be built exactly on the lines of the British or American example." Hopeless or not, Clark Kerr and Harriman insisted on democracy without Communist quotation marks. And that was the nub.

Bottoms & Tempers. For weeks the talks went round & round. At long sessions in the Kremlin's uncomfortable wooden chairs, diplomatic bottoms were as sorely tried as diplomatic tempers. But there was no explosion. Clark Kerr and Harriman simply reported home. Churchill and Franklin Roosevelt turned on the heat.

The atmosphere warmed up a little. The commission began to discuss possible Poles from outside Warsaw. Molotov would consider each name, the next day (probably after consultation with Warsaw) would say no. The chill returned. By last week, not a single Pole proposed by Clark Kerr and Harriman had been accepted.

The negotiations--and Big Three relations--bumped to an alltime low when Molotov made known that he was not going to the San Francisco Conference.

The British and Americans were astounded, hurt. The Russians realized that they had gone too far. Partly in order to appease the U.S. and Great Britain, they abrogated the neutrality pact with Japan several days ahead of the expected time. Then, immediately after President Roosevelt's death. U.S. Ambassador Harriman showed gumption, convinced Stalin that he had made a serious mistake, and paved the way for President Truman's firm "invitation" to Molotov. The effects on the Polish negotiations were instantly apparent; Mr.

Molotov looked up from his navel, and the other negotiators took heart.

The Trump. Before Molotov arrived in Washington, Moscow played a trump. Into Moscow flew President Boleslaw Bierut, Premier Osubka-Morawski, Deputy Premier Wladyslaw Homolka and Defense Minister General Michal Rola-Zymierski--Warsaw Poles all. Two days later, Stalin himself signed a 20-year mutual assistance treaty and proclaimed "a radical turning point in the relations between the Soviet Union and Poland . . . a solid foundation for replacing the old unfriendly relations with ties of alliance and friendship. . . ."

Said Stalin: ". . . It means strengthening of the common front of the United Nations against the common foe in Europe. This is why I do not doubt that our Allies in the West will welcome this treaty."

Joseph Stalin's Big Three partners would "welcome" the treaty only if it meant that he was now ready to fulfill the spirit of the Yalta commitments, and enable Viacheslav Molotov in San Francisco to meet the eyes of the world.

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